No flowers withered
At death's knell
The world was still
As his eyelids fell.
The lightbulbs glowed
And they did not flicker
The air was quite still
And did not grow thicker.
But inside. Man, inside.
Electricity that had made a man do a thousand different things
Made him think of love and loss and anger and regret
The spark that had made him once get up on a stage and sing
Had powered a laughter that could spread and infect
The memory of the time he walked in on his parents at night
The touch, so soft, of his true love. And also of his wife.
The electricity inside that powered every thought and light
It ran the end of its circuitry and it
Fizzled
Softly
The world kept its spin
But electricity stopped inside
The earth did nothing
As an old man died
***
https://harryisapoet.blogspot.com/2017/01/as-old-man-died.html
